Winged bird that cannot fly
by KadiCriss
Summary: "If you want to have a life that is worth living, that expresses your deepest feelings and emotions and cares and dreams, you have to fight for it." (A.Walker) Set after the finale. The Fosters gather around one of their own and help him when all hope seems lost.
1. Prologue

**A/N : I've got a new obsession. This obsession is named David Lambert a.k.a Brandon Foster in ABC's show** _The Fosters**.**_**I love this show and all the actors that play in it are... just incredible. Seriously, it's an awesome show, very original, very... fresh. So I finished watching the first season a week ago and I was shocked by how it ended. I mean **SPOILER ALERT** my poor baby got beat up and his dreams crushed. No pun intended. I also shocked that there weren't that much fanfiction about Brandon's assault and its aftermath. The few that I read were good but short and not complete, and I'm craving some Brandon whump! Sorry, B. Isn't that weird that people always their favourite characters to suffer? Said the pot to the kettle. Anyway, this short... _thing_ is the prologue of my new fanfiction. Enjoy ! **

**Disclaimer : Tout ce que vous lisez est un produit de mon imagination. Les personnages ne m'appartiennent pas (malheureusement pour moi, heureusement pour les personnages). YEP! I'm French, losers, whassup? Good luck translating that, nerds ! (Meh, ain't that difficult, actually.)**

**Set after season 1. Inspired from the first minutes of** _Things Unknown._ **Rated T for some... stuff that I haven't figure out yet.**

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><p><span><em><strong>"Winged bird that cannot fly"<strong>_

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><p><span><em>- Prologue -<em>

His eyes were closed. Brandon couldn't move. Well, he could move but he was afraid to. Afraid that if he opened the door, his hand would fall in pieces. He wasn't afraid of the pain. Hell, he couldn't even feel it. He couldn't speak either. Of that, Brandon was sure; he had tried to speak. To call for help. He couldn't scream in pain no matter how much he had tried and wanted to. Only whimpers seemed to escape from his mouth and bloody lips. His jaw seemed to be dislocated.

Taking a deep breath, Brandon finally opened his eyes. Well, one eye, since the other was swollen. The tall brunette tried to ignore the burning pain as he slightly his head. The urge to throw up increased as he saw his bloodied hand, hanging from his last unbroken bones. Pushing himself toward his car with his good arm, he struggled to sit up, his stomach and back aching in protest. The young man ignored the tears falling from his eyes and waiting his cheeks.

Brandon slowly reached for the handle and quickly opened the door, bringing the remains of his hand and wrist close to his chest without daring to look at it. Slowly raising to his feet, the brown haired teenager hissed in pain as he pushed himself up into the car and winced as his bruised back brushed against the material of his shirt, when he sat down.

The pianist struggled to move. He struggled to breath. He struggled to stay conscious, to keep his eyes open. But he had to. Move. Breath. Keep his eyes open. Stay conscious. So with the last inch of his strength, Brandon furiously pushed the horn, hoping to make as much noise as he could. Trembling with fear and sobs, he hoped and prayed to a God that he didn't believe in that someone would help him.

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><p><strong>TBC..<strong>

**I know, it's short, but I just wanted to set the mood. A very sad mood. **

**What did you think? Thumbs up? :) Thumbs down ? :/ Was it bad? Was it good? Do you think that I shouldn't start new stories without finishing others? Me too! :D **long distance high-five****

**KC out!**


	2. Short-term happiness

**A/N : I'm so scared I didn't write the characters right, I'll hide while read and judge me ! **hidingbehindmyfluffypuppypoodle** On a serious note, thank you for the feedback and kind comments guys! I was thrilled when I saw that my story had more than a hundred of visitors a few hours after it was published. Anyway, here's the first chapter 1. Btw, this one is short but the next is pretty... long. So chapters will be uneven.**

**DISCLAIMER: Woudln't that be awesome if I worked with JLo ? But I don't, so I don't have anything to do with _The Fosters. _I wish I did, though.**

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><p><em><strong>"Winged bird that cannot fly" <strong>_

**- Chapter I - Short-therm happiness - **

_"We never taste a perfect joy, our happiest successes are mixed with sadness." - Pierre Corneille (French author) _

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><p>Wyatt, Daphne, Rita and the girls from Girls United had left after giving Callie a last hug kiss as did Connor after giving a pat on Jude's back. The Fosters/ Jacobs kids were cleaning the leaving room and kitchen and their moms cuddled . Jude was cleaning the table, Mariana and Jesus were fighting playfully while doing the dishes and Callie helped by eating the last piece of cake. She had smiled when she noticed that everyone else had made sure to eat and cut pieces around the part where her name was written.

Callie observed her brother closely as Jude entered the kitchen with the last dishes in hands, his tie, hanging from his neck. She watched as he smiled when Jesus playfully ruffled his hair and grinned as he chuckled when Mariana splashed him with water and soap. _This was family_, she thought, _no matter what name was written on a birth certificate. _Even though they didn't share the same father, Jude was _her _brother. Even though they didn't have the same parents, Mariana and Jesus were siblings and screw anyone who said that lesbians couldn't have a family, that they couldn't get married. Steph and Lena was _their _parents and _their _family.

She sighed happily as she leaned in her chair and eat _her – _it was written on it, she owned it - piece of cake. As the twins and Jude kept playing around and laughing, Steph came in the kitchen, leaning against the door away. Callie smiled as she saw the older woman gaze lovingly at the terrible trio. Then the blonde sighed and asked, to no one in particular:

"Did anyone heard of Brandon? He left a while ago."

The four siblings shared a and Jude replied no and Callie shook her head, spoon still in her mouth. Jesus shrugged, then crossed his arms and said, leaning against the sink:

"He said that he was going to pick some stuff at Mike's. Maybe he's going to stay the night."

"Yeah, maybe." Steph muttered, taking her cellphone out of her pocket.

At the same moment, Lena entered the kitchen and started looking through the drawers and cupboard. Groaning in frustration, she turned toward her kids and wife, wondering:

"Don't we have anything sweet in this house?"

Mouth full with cake, Callie proposed her plate, cocking an eyebrow. Lena looked at the pastry, grimaced and shook her head before taking a bag of vinegar chips from under the sink. Mariana wrinked her nose in disgust and Jesus grimaced, making Callie smirke. Twins. The latino teenage girl then turned toward her blonde mother, eyeing the device in her hands. She asked, playfully:

"What are you going to do? Track his phone?"

"Ha-ha. You're hilarious, Mari'." she retorted, not looking up from her phone. "No, I'm trying to reach Mike, but he isn't answering."

"Plus," Lena intervened "We're not the kind of parents who tracked their children's every move. We trust you, guys. We're cool."

"Well, you did track Brandon one time." Callie said.

_Not a smart move _she thought when both of her moms looked up at her, their eyebrows high on the forehead. The brunette cleared her throat and immediately added:

"Which you had every right to do, since he was with me, the trouble girl who had come into your house with a bloody face. Plus, you were right to, since Georges was a jerk and had a gun, which a dangerous mix. And of course you're cool, I mean I wouldn't trust us after all the things we did, I mean, really. I'm really sorry there's no cake anymore!"

Eventually, Callie remembered to breath and stopped talking. Lena seemed amused by the girl's rambling , the twins were laughing and Jude was grinning and shaking his head at his sister. The latter shrugged her shoulders innocently and attacked her cake with her spoon. The only not paying attention was Steph, her phone stuck to her ear as she listened to Mike's voicemail for the umpteenth time. She groaned and started dialing an other number, growing worried and oblivious to her wife's staring. Swallowing the chips in her mouth, Lena cleared her throat and proposed:

"Maybe you should tried B."

"I did, I overwhelmed his box with messages." The blonde replied, getting annoyed.

"Well, maybe he chose to stay at-"

"He would have call me!" Steph snapped, making Jude jump and the older teens look up, weary.

Steph sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. Lena took a few steps toward her and put her the bag on the table before taking the cellphone out of her hand and saying:

"Alright. Don't freak out, I'm sure there's an explanation. Come on" she added, taking her hands "we're going over to Mike's and if he's not over there, we'll look for him. Okay, babe?"

The blonde woman gave a tired nod as Lena pulled her outside. Looking back to the, now, silent and worried teenagers, she sent a look at Callie and simply said:

"You're in charge."

Callie didn't even had the time to , at Mike's, Dani was declining every call that came from Steph Foster and cursing whoever thought that playing with a horn was fun. She didn't know that Brandon wasn't having fun and that he didn't have any strength left.

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><p><strong>tbc.<strong>

**Tell me out you thought in the box below.. Please? I don't care if you were thinking that Santa is a dirty pervert while reading it, tell me! Plus he is. A dirty pervert. Urg. Two things that terrified: Santa and clowns. Not trustworthy. Neither are TeleTubbies. Make that three. What? Welcome into my ADHD brain, folks!**


	3. Mother knows best

**A/N : Thanks again for the feedback. Peace and love, losers. I'm kidding. You're not losers. You're winners. You're more than winners. Please, come back ! I need you **sobs awkwardly** (Seriously, there's no normal to sob.) I have spent too much time watching videos like the Knife Song (I almost _fainted _watching it, DUDE! There's a reason you're not allowed to run with any sharp object such as freakin' knife! don't make a song about it and encourage others into your stupid idea!) and _Kiwi_, this video broke my heart. WATCH IT! ****Also, _Shrek is life, Shrek is love_ (or is it the other way around, whatever) ? God, how mad has the world gone.**

**I've raised my case, nothing left to say.**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing owns me (I realize this isn't propor grammar, but who the hell cares). It works the other way around too. Meaning I don't own shit.**

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><p><em><strong>"Winged bird that cannot fly"<strong>_

_**- **_**Chapter II - Mother knows best - **

_"The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness" ~Honoré de Balzac (French author)_

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><p>The closer they got from Mike's house, the more nervous Steph got. Sure, during these few months, Brandon had became... Distant. Reckless. He got in fights, made fake Ids and sold them around school, used money to bribe his siblings' biological mother and got arrested for it. But the teenager had behaved lately. He <em>tried <em>to get along with his father, focused on his music and even got in the Junior Symphony. He was trying to make things better for everyone. Which was why her son not coming back home after three hours when he was just getting _'some stuff' _from his dad – who happened to live 15 minutes away – was worrying her.

Steph unconsciously pull in Mike's driveway a few seconds later, and got out of the car, followed by the dark haired woman. Lena was the first to notice Brandon's unlocked car parked in front of them. The driver's door was opened, the inside lights were on and she could hear the faint sound of the horn. Not taking her eyes from the car, she nudged her wife with her elbow and muttered:

"Steph."

When the blonde turned to look at her, Lena simply nodded her head toward the vehicule. Frowning her eyebrows, she started walking toward the car, followed closely by the brunette. As she got closer, she could hear grunts and see the shape of a body sitting in the driver seat.

"B.?"

She started walking faster, running and stopped as she caught sight of her son. Her hands flew to her mouth as she restrained the inhuman scream that bulbed in her throat, itching to come out. Brandon was sliding out of the chair, trying to keep his... She didn't know if she could call it a hand anymore, there was nothing left of it. Brandon tried to keep the remains of his hand and wrist close to his chest as drippets of red trickled from his bloodied mouth. Steph ran to the teenage boy, her vision blurred by tears:

"Brandon?! B., can you talk to mommy, baby?"

She knew that she was talking to her grown 16-year old son as if he was a toddler, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get a reaction out of him. Fighting to keep his eyes open, he slowly turned his head toward her, his blue-green eyes meeting her gaze. Steph couldn't restrain the tears anymore as she watched him try to talk and coughed blood, instead.

His eyes, oh his eyes! Only showed terror, fear and pain. A pupil was larger than the other. His breaths were shallow, as if he was struggling to breath and his entire body was blonde woman didn't try to look away from the bruised, bloodied face. She couldn't look from these eyes. These eyes who got Brandon everything that he wanted when he was younger, these eyes who wouldn't leave the keys when he started playing piano, these eyes who brightened when he laughed. She didn't even turned to look as she heard Lena gasp and mutter a '_oh my god' _behind her. She, then, heard her getting her phone out and dialing a number. 911, she remembered, for emergencies.

The blonde police officer brought her hands to Brandon's head, cupping his face gently, trying not to touch any bruise area. Her heart broke when she saw him move his lips, trying to call for her, trying to call for anybody to help him. Ignoring her own tremblements and tears running down her face, she shushed him:

"Sh, honey; don't try to talk, 'k? B., I'm here, it's alright, mamma's here too, it's okay. Just... try to not move too much and stay calm. Can you do that for me, baby?"

She watched as he swallowed, struggling to keep his eyes open. Lena got closer of the pair, leaning next to her wife and stepson. His eyes immediately followed the sudden movement and settled on the brunette woman. She tried to smile at him, reassure him, but she couldn't help the sob that escaped her lips.

Fury suddenly remplaced Steph's fear and worry as she got up, ran to Mike's front door and started banging on it. She didn't stop kicking it until it opened and a furious Dani appeared on the doorstep, in a robe. Obviously sleeping, oblivious to her son bleeding in front of her front door. The woman eyed the blonde before snapping:

"What the hell's wrong with you, it-"

She ignored Dani and stormed into the house, running to Mike's bedroom. Where, the bastard, was sleeping soundly, members sprawled all over his bed. Seeing him this peaceful made her even madder. So she started to shake him violently, to hit him, to pull on his comforter until he finally woke up and sat up, groaning and glaring at her:

"Steph, what-"

"You don't have the right to storm into people's houses like this." Dani intervened as she entered the room.

"I have the right to storm into my ex-husband's house, who happened to be the father of my son, when said son is missing for more than three hours." She scoffed, crossing her arms to stop her trembling.

"Wha' talking about, Steph?" Mike asked, groggily.

And that's when she noticed. The bottle and pills sitting next to his bed. The bloodshot eyes. That was when she lost it. She could have laughed, but she decided against it:

"I can't believe this. Oh my god, I can't believe that you got yourself drunk enough not to notice that your own son was missing. I can't believe you got drunk and slept it off when your son was getting beat the livin' crap out of him on your lawn!"

"What?!" Well, that seemed to sober him up. "What are you sayin'?"

"I'm saying, asshole, that Brandon has been bleeding out for the last three hours. In front of your house. And he's obviously been trying to call for help since his hand seemed stuck on his car's horn when I arrived."

Dani's face paled in realization. That realization was that, it wasn't some drunk jerk having fun in the middle of the night. It was someone she knew and cared for. It was a call for help. Mike jumped out of bed and stared looking for clothes, while still talking:

"Well, don't blame me, I was asleep."

"Are you serious, right now?" she shouted, not caring about waking up neighbors "I'm completely blaming you for this. I assumed that as soon as Brandon got out of the house and said that he was going to his father's, you were responsible of him. Now, don't get me wrong, I have my part of responsibility for it, so has Lena but don't you dare tell him you're not to blame you."

She hadn't noticed the tears of anger that had rolled on her cheeks. Or if she did, she ignored them.

"Now, I don't care if you stay here to cuve or sleep, but I'm taking my son to the hospital. Follow us, see if I care, Mike."

"_STEPH!" _

The alarm in Lena's voice made the blonde rush back outside, ignoring Mike and Dani, not caring what choice they'll make in the end. Her wife's eyes reflected panick and fear as she cried:

"He closed his eyes."

And Steph felt her legs give in under her as she saw Brandon's unconscious and still body. And his unrising chest.

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><p><strong>Cliffie ? <strong>

**TBC ?**

**KC. **


	4. Nothing in this world I wouldn't do

**A/N : So sorry for the delay guys. I've been busy writing my own original novel, lately. _So busy _I forgot that I had already finished two whole chapters for this. My sick brain just woke up and reminded me of it. But turns out I'm updating just in time because **_Girls United _**will air on ABC in few hours. BY THE WAY : **** SPOILERS **** _Dani _a.k.a _The Bitch Queen _a.k.a _Pedobear got __ARRESTED_! And Mike was like _'I ain't giving shit about you, biatch. Ain't nobody gonna touch my motha'fucking child. BAM!' _Or that was me. Probably.**

**Thank you so much for the feedback, guys. It means a lot to me that over 700 persons bothered to click on this link and read that fanfiction that came out of my crazy imagination.**

**DISCLAIMER: Me own _niente. _That includes Avicii's song **_Hey Brother. _**(chapter title!)**

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><p>"<em><strong>Winged bird that cannot fly"<strong>_

**- CHAPTER III - There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do -**

"_There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother" – Terri Guillemets_

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><p>It was over one in the morning and none of the Foster kids seemed to be asleep. The lights were out, each of them were in their rooms, laying under their beds' covers. But sleep didn't seem to come. Callie tossed in her bed, trying to get comfortable, in vain. The brunette groaned as she laid on her back, her head hitting the wood of her bed.<p>

"Okay, seriously, are you having a seizure?"

The sudden sound of Mariana's voice made Callie jump, startled. Sitting up, she frowned her eyebrows and turned her head toward the latino's bed, where the latter stared at her, expecting an answer.

"Wha-, no? What are you talking about?"

"Then, would you please stop twitching and moving? Your bed is creaking at every move you make, it's annoying and I can't fall asleep." she retorted, ignoring her question.

_Liar, _Callie thought as she laid back, sighing. Mariana hadn't even tried to fall asleep, she's been on her phone since their moms had left the house. Eventually, the beeps of the touches and the light of the screen became irritating to the young woman. Callie sat back up and said:

"Okay, who are you talking to right now? It's 1:30 in the morning, is it really that important?"

"Yes, it is!" she snapped, then sighed "I'm trying to reach Brandon."

"Moms already tried that." The brunette retorted, cocking an eyebrow.

"Hello? Are you a teenager or not? We tend to avoid our parents, when we see them across the streets or when they call us."

Callie smiled tiredly before turning the lights on. Mariana abruptly looked up at her sister and blinked, her eyes trying to get used to the sudden brightness of the room. The older teenager stood from her bed and went to sit next to Mariana, rubbing her one of her knees.

"You're worried" she said bluntly.

"Well, obviously" the latino retorted, putting down her phone "Aren't you?"

"Yeah. But the thing is I've spent my life worrying about Jude, about the persons around me and I'm tired of it."

_'I'm tired too... Of being here, whenever you need my shoulder to cry on."_

The thought attacked from nowhere. It just came out and replaced her concern with fear and guilt. Then it left, leaving Callie shaken. Feeling the younger woman's eyes on her, the brunette shook her head and smiled at her, saying:

"We shouldn't have to worry. Brandon's going to be fine."

Mariana smiled back at her, nodded and laid her head on Callie's shoulders. A creaking sound made both girls look up to see Jude enter the room, followed by Jesus.

"Hey, Judicorn. What's up?"

Jude simply shrugged. Callie grinned at him before patting the bed, inviting him to sit next to her.

The boy returned the smile before running to jump next to his sister, almost landing on her lap as Jesus chose to sit next to his twin as the latter crossed her legs to make room for both boys.

"So" Mariana began "What bring you two boys into our humble home?" she added, theatrically waving her arms around the room.

Jesus snorted before laying his head on the young girl's lap and said:

"We couldn't sleep so we assumed that you guys couldn't either."

"Oh my god" his twin gasped dramatically, putting a hand on her mouth "Something's smart came out of Jesus' mouth and he used the word 'assume' correctly. Today's a big day, I'm so proud, brother." she added, wiping fake tears.

Jesus glared playfully at his sister and stuck his tongue as Jude snorted and Callie smiled, shaking her head. The younger teenager lose his smile and turned toward his older sister, asking:

"Do you think Brandon's gonna be okay?"

"Why wouldn't he be?" she replied, bringing the twelve year-old closer to her.

The brown-haired girl shared quick glances with the twins, whom both smiled reassuringly at Jude. The boy wrapped his arms around Callie's waist as he sighed and said:

"I just have a bad feeling. Whenever things start getting better, something bad happens."

As she was going to retort, Callie's phone buzzed on her nightstand. Frowning, she shot a quick glance at Mariana's alarm clock – 1:45 AM – before getting up from the younger teenager's bed. Whoever calling or texting her this late would either be Wyatt, one of her moms or Brandon. Her heart skipped a beat when Steph's name flashed on the screen. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she clicked on the incoming message and stopped breathing as she read the text.

Noticing the change of attitude, Jesus sat up and asked, frowning his eyebrows:

"Cal', you okay?"

The brunette ignored the tears that blurred her vision and swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked at her brothers and sister. She set her phone back on the table, cleared her throat and said, her hands trembling:

"Hum.. They found Brandon, but.. T-they had to bring him to the hospital."

"WHAT?!" The three siblings shouted, shoting out of bed.

"What happened?!" Jesus added, taking Callie's phone and reading the text himself.

The young woman simply shrugged, crossing her arms against her chest and hiding her trembling hands under her armpits.

"I don't know" Callie said.

"Well, it's serious enough that they have to stay overnight." Jesus said, before getting out of the room.

Mariana quickly get out of her bed and followed her twin out of the room, Callie and Jude right behind her. The latino girl crossed her arms as she watched her brother put his shoes and jacket. Frowning, she asked:

"What are you doing?"

"Isn't that obvious? I'm going to the hospital to see my brother." He answered, without looking up at her.

"Obviously. And _how _exactly do you intend to go there?"

"The bus."

**_"*Jesus, es casi dos de la mañana : no hay omnibus en este momento*"_ **Mariana said, pinching her nose in frustration.

Ignoring his sister, the young man finished lacing his shoes and walked toward the front door. As he was going to get out, Jude called:

"Don't you think that we care took too?"

"I didn't say tha-" Jesus sighed.

"Well, you were thinking it." the younger teenager interrupted, cocking an eyebrow.

So far, Jude was the one who seemed the less affected by the news. Key word: _seemed_. Jesus sighed again, then kicked away his shoes and took off his jacket before slipping onto the floor. Mariana sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. The Jacobs siblings imitated the twins by sitting on the stairs. Jesus closed his eyes, ran his fingers through his hair and grunted:

"Life's a bitch."

No one wanted to argue against him. After taking a deep breath, Callie wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees, and said:

"We should tried to go to sleep; it's a school night."

"No offence, Cal', but I don't feel like going to sleep, nor going to school tomorrow." Jude snorted.

Once again, no one argued. And silence filled the house, each of the Foster kids lost in their own thoughts and concern.

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><p><strong><span>AN 2 : _*"Jesus, it's almost 2:AM, there are buses right now."* _I thought it was cool that the twins spoke Spanish between them, when they're mad or do not want anyone to find out what they're saying. I found it sad that they don't use it all that much.**

**Review...?**


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